


Interviews

by waterbird13



Series: Tumblr Fics [181]
Category: The Martian - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, back on the Hermes, defensive crew, insensitive interviews, protective crew
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-16
Updated: 2016-09-16
Packaged: 2018-08-15 07:07:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8047021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waterbird13/pseuds/waterbird13
Summary: When they get close to Earth, NASA wants Mark to do interviews. The insensitivity is staggering. Thankfully, Mark has the crew behind him.





	Interviews

**Author's Note:**

> This is another piece from Tumblr.
> 
> No warnings, really. Mark is hurt and needs some support.

He’s gained weight. His ribs are healed. His hair has completely stopped falling out in clumps and grown back in nicely. His heart rate and breathing have improved. Little things about the crew and the Hermes have stopped making him jump. And his nightmares are down to once a week or so, if that.

Mark’s coming along just fine, until they get close enough to Earth that NASA decides video interviews are a great idea. It’s a way to prove to the world that the man they worked so hard to save is alive, well, and recovered. It’s a PR stunt.

It might very well be the death of Mark Watney.

He doesn’t want to talk about Mars. He doesn’t want to talk about almost dying every other day, or how hard it was, or how it made him feel. Hell, they barely let him talk to his _parents_ , and now they want him to chat it up with random strangers.

He mostly manages to keep it together with small grumbles until the camera is on, he knows the world is staring at him, and he can _feel_  their judgmental eyes, even through space.

He has the best crew behind him, and they’re not going to leave him alone, even through this. He feels a hand squeeze his shoulder. Martinez, he thinks.

“Uh, hi,” he begins, the height of eloquence. It’s better than _fuck off, leave me alone,_  so Mark counts it as a win.

The questions come fast and furious, no mercy for him. They’re not cruel, or not deliberately so. How it feels to be back on the Hermes. How it feels to be almost back to Earth. What he wants to do first. The thing he’s most proud of. Where he’s going to be living when he gets back.

And then someone leaves it all out there. “Tell us what it was like,” they say.

What was it like?

Cold. Even in the temperature-controlled HAB, he could still feel the cold. Desolate, lonely. Constant stress, knowing he could literally die any second, that every day was just borrowed time. Starvation looming around every corner, and that’s only if the equipment held and he didn’t die some other way first. Knowing the only thing between him and death was his own hands, his own quick thinking, what had been drilled into his head, and some luck.

Knowing that, by all rights, he should be long since dead.

He can tell, objectively, that he’s hyperventilating. He just doesn’t know how to stop. Beck’s trying to get him to match breathing, and then it feels like everyone is crowding around him, trying to help but it only makes things worse—

The screen cuts out.

“Whoops,” Johanssen says, deadpan, removing her fingers from the control panel. “Commander, you might want to let NASA know we lost communication.” She pauses for a few seconds. “But all other systems seem to be online.”

Lewis actually smiles. “Will do,” she says, and she squeezes Mark’s shoulder before going off to deal with NASA.

Mark gets his breathing under control, and everyone else looks relieved. “Thanks,” he manages to say, directed to everyone but mostly to Johanssen.

She shrugs. “Can’t let those assholes bother you.”

“You know, on Earth I’m not just gonna be able to shut off the video screen,” Mark says.

“Earth is pretty big,” Martinez says.

“We’d take you in Germany,” Vogel says. “Our paparazzi are not like yours.”

Mark manages to laugh. “Running away from my problems,” he says.

“Hey,” Beck says. “We’ll be there too, you know.”

“Yeah, turning off a screen ain’t the only way to get rid of those guys,” Martinez promises.

“NASA wants a systems check,” Lewis calls to Johanssen, who rolls her eyes.

“Got it,” she says, but makes no move to comply. 

“They looking to reschedule?” Mark asks.

“Didn’t come up,” Lewis says, in a way that means it definitely did, and they definitely won’t ask again. “C’mon. We can stare at a dead screen, or we can get back to work.”

Work is good. Work is…manageable, Mark thinks. Work is something he can focus on instead of what’s coming next.

Everyone watches him walk to the lab, everyone watches him closely for the rest of the day, everyone offers him a smile or a hand whenever they can, but no one brings it up again. And Mark appreciates it, more than he can say.


End file.
